


Shiver

by akatsuki_tsukiyomi (Yumi25Nakashima)



Series: First Blush [11]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Awkward Crush, Coldplay References, Confessions, Crushes, F/M, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reader-Insert, Romance, Secret Crush, Shyness, Teen Angst, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumi25Nakashima/pseuds/akatsuki_tsukiyomi
Summary: "I'll always be waiting for you. So you know how much I need you.But you never even see me, do you."— Shiver, Coldplay
Relationships: Canada (Hetalia)/Reader
Series: First Blush [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089500





	Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> (F/N) - Reader's First Name  
> (L/N) - Reader's Last Name  
> Matthew Williams - Canada's official human name

Matthew looked up meekly to watch as (F/n) read her poem aloud for the class. A small smile graced his lips as she mispronounced a word or two, making her cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment, but continued. It was an average poem, not that good, but not bad either.

She finished with a slight curtsy and the class erupted with a short round of applause. Violet eyes scanned the room uneasily before they met with the teacher's stare. Matthew practically jumped in his seat as he accidentally looked his teacher in the eye, a rare thing for the shy Canadian. Jerking her head towards the front of the class, their French teacher signalled him to take his turn in reading out his poem.

He took a deep breath, pushed his chair back slowly and flinched as the loud screech of the metal against the floor bounced off the four walls of the now-silent classroom. Gripping his paper in his hand, Matthew made his way to the front of the class and awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot as he tried calming his pounding heart. Being under the spotlight has never been his interest and his discomfort showed plainly through his knit brows and quivering lips. Taking another shaky breath, he started reading his poem out loud.

" _Matthieu_ , this is not the time to be so quiet. Speak up, _non_?" **no** called out the teacher. Clearing his throat for emphasis, he complied and read his poem a bit louder, all the while commenting in his mind how his French teacher reminded him so much of Francis. As he finished, he spared the crowd an uneasy gaze, noting how they had not said a word from the start until the end. The blond almost squeaked as the class started an uproar; letting out inappropriate howls of amazement and slapping their palms like seals; it was the loudest cheer he'd heard the whole period and he soon felt warmth in his cheeks, neck, and ears.

Quickly retreating to his seat, the applause and approval slowly died down and the teacher sauntered over to the front of the class, her clacking heels matching the thumping of Matthew's chest as he tried to get over his fright of standing in front.

"All of you did such a good job in making your poems, so give yourselves a clap," murmurs of 'well done' and 'that was great' were passed around the class. "but I do have to commend _quelqu'un qui a fait un travail fantastique_. _Matthieu_ , that was a wonderful _poème_." **Someone who did a fantastic job, poem** ( ***** )

Matthew nodded in acknowledgement, thanking those who congratulated him, but as usual, shied away after minutes of exposure. He waited a few more seconds, holding his breath, and let it out in a quick and relieved sigh as the conversation started again and everyone else minded their own business, leaving him to himself. Slipping the piece of paper that he'd written his poem in under his thick French textbook, he played and fiddled with his pen in his hand.

As he heard the clacking of his teacher's heels coming over in his direction, he pretended to be fixing his books on his desk. The bell finally rang, signalling lunch break, and as if it was a matter of life or death, almost everyone shot to their feet and were already speed-walking out the door by the time Matthew had registered that it was already time to leave.

\---

"Hey, (F/n), wait up!" Her best friend called out from behind said the female. She looked over her shoulder, smiling slightly as her friend jogged over. "What took you so long?"

"Well, if you must know, Miss-I'm-an-admirer-not-a-stalker, I had to wait until _Monsieur Matthieu_ left the class to put your letter under his desk again." **Sir** She replied sarcastically trying and failing to imitate their French teacher. "But like I keep telling you, why can't you just... oh gosh, I don't know, tell him? I mean, it's not that I'm against your feelings for the guy, but having to do all your dirty work for you isn't always fun."

"You could've quit a long time ago if you really didn't like it. And it is _not_ dirty work!" (F/n) exclaimed with a laugh and blushing cheeks. "I just, I'm fine with it like this, okay?"

The other girl simply shrugged it off and stuffed her hands into her pockets. (F/n) continued blushing as her thoughts swarmed with Matthew.

"I'm fine with just letting him know how great of a person he is, even if he doesn't know I'm behind all those letters," she mumbled to no one in particular as the both of them walked towards the already bustling cafeteria.

\---

"Here," she said in a hurry, pushing the scented envelope into her best friend's hands. "Make it quick, don't,"

"Don't let anyone see. I know the drill," came the wry interruption as she stuffed the letter inside the large gaping sleeves of her oversized sweater. "It'll be fine. Besides, when have I disappointed when it comes to these kinds of things, eh?"

(F/n) watched with uneasy eyes as her best friend casually walked into the classroom, pretending to grab her bag. Her sly and nimble fingers reached into her sleeve and swiftly sent the envelope flying into the small compartment under the brown desk. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, the girl flashed a bright grin towards the doorway where (F/n) was watching from and flicked her hair over her shoulder dramatically. "If one of these days a rumour spreads about _me_ liking him, I'm gonna have your head, you overly-infatuated madwoman."

"Not if I have your head first." "..."

"What?" "(F/n), you've really gotten so crazy over him."

Matthew slipped his books into his locker, noticing (F/n) and her best friend walk past him, giggling to themselves. He took another glance at the girl and inwardly chuckled at her laugh. It was so contagious, at least for him. She could just smile and somehow, he'd already feel so warm inside. Sighing and trying to shrug her off his mind, he shut his locker and went his way.

\---

(F/n) walked to class, humming to herself, early as always. As she sat in her seat, she looked over at the blond-haired boy a few tables away. 'Today's the day,' she in her head. 'It's now or never.'

Nodding to herself in determination, she reached into the pocket of her sweater and touched the delicate envelope. Feeling it with her fingers, as if to remind herself that it's real, she let out a shaky breath and mentally prepared what she was going to say to Matthew later that day.

She didn't want to appear too desperate or cheesy, but she also wanted to let him know that she was serious. She was serious about liking him, and she wanted him to know that. She noticed that over the past few weeks, he seemed bummed out and out-of-sorts—or as out-of-sorts as an introvert can get. Nevertheless, she found something odd about him.

Obviously, a confession of her love wouldn't be the exact solution he would need, but (F/n) was fearing for the worst. Girls were starting to notice him and his usually-nonexistent presence. Whether it was puberty or something else, he certainly did not fo unnoticed recently. She wasn't used to it. As selfish as she was getting, (F/n) wanted Matthew all to herself. She was the only one who first noticed him and got along with him, and she felt that the ones who only seemed to notice him because he was 'cute' instead of 'kind, smart, and amazing' weren't worth his attention.

(F/n) felt a nudge on her foot as her partner-in-crime walked past her to get to her seat. They had been planning the confession for almost a week, and on several occasions, (F/n) wanted nothing more than to give up and chicken out. The only thing that kept on stopping her was whenever she would see Matthew. He'd either be walking down the hall, sitting under the shade of a tree during lunch, or just leaning against a wall, but she'd still be captivated by him and in a matter of seconds, her cowardice turns to bravery. One look at him is all it takes for her to remind herself that she really wants to do it. She really wanted to tell him just how great of an inspiration he's been to her, despite him not knowing her. She really wanted to let him know the feelings that have blossomed inside her.

Time flew by so fast, and before (F/n) knew it, the bell had already rung and it was already time for dismissal. She watched as Matthew got up to leave after arranging his things, carefully and meticulously as always. The moment his foot stepped out the doorway, her best friend almost came barreling at (F/n) and pushed her out the door. Today was one of those days, based on both of their research that Matthew spends inside the library. It was one of those days when he'd stay inside the campus an hour longer, and it was the perfect opportunity.

The two girls giddily walked over to the said place. Taking a deep breath, (F/n) scanned the area until her eyes fell upon familiar blond locks. She immediately tensed up once she realized that his eyes were also on her and twitched to dash out.

Her subconscious was already screaming at her to flee but the girl's feet stayed glued to the ground even as Matthew stood from his seat and made his way over to her.

Her name sounded like honey dripping from his lips. She melted. He knew her name. She walked over to him with newfound determination, not noticing a pair of bespectacled violet orbs observing her from a ways away. Matthew Williams watched as a bad dream unfolded into his reality.

\---

Matthew tucked the books he had under his arm more snugly against him and let out a soft sigh. He knew it would happen someday, but he didn't expect to be there when it did. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the matter and couldn't figure out if it was a good thing that he had actually been there to witness it or not.

The crunching of leaves caught his attention and snapped him back to reality. He looked up and twitched as he saw _her_.

"Beautiful," he softly whispered into the wind. 

" _Tu es belle_." **You are beautiful**

He felt as if a hand was squeezing and tugging at his heart as he watched (F/n) smile and laugh with _him_. _Matthew_. They had the same name, the same blond hair, the same shy shell. So why? Why did she have to fall for _him_? All those lovesick smiles and dreamy stares were for _him_ , all those secret letters were for _him_ , and all her love was for _him_.

The confession at the library was mutual, and he had been right there to see and to hear it, much to his dismay. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Matthew walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> These translations could not be 100% correct nor appropriately written. Revisions and corrections would be highly appreciated. Google translate isn't the best source, and my French is rusty.
> 
> That line of Coldplay's song is pretty much the basis of the whole story. Originally, I hadn't planned to have two Matthews in one story, but then I thought 'why the heck not,' so there you have it. In case it's confusing, the parts where Matthew's point of view is shown, it's Matthew Williams (Canada) and not the other Matthew (whoever he is).
> 
> This was originally published in Wattpad on Oct 31, 2017.


End file.
